


it's all my fault that i'm still the one you want

by prydon



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Basically, Hurt/Comfort, Juno gets scared that he's treating Nureyev the way his past partners treated him, Mental Health Issues, Other, Past Domestic Abuse, Spoiler alert: he's defo not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27090046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prydon/pseuds/prydon
Summary: Nureyev chuckles. “It’s certainly not the worst injury I’ve ever sustained. It isn’t your fault, either, so an apology isn’t necessary.”Juno wants to apologize, though. He wants to apologize over and over again. He wants to grab Nureyev by the shoulders and say, "I’m sorry I keep hurting you. I don’t know why I keep hurting you."He wants to say, "I’m sorry that I’m the same as them."
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 38
Kudos: 225





	it's all my fault that i'm still the one you want

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about how having been in abusive/toxic relationships in the past can make you paranoid that you're also being abusive/toxic, which got me to thinking about how Juno would definitely struggle with that, which got me to....this fic.
> 
> Due to the sort of...inherent nature of a fic on this concept, expect a lot of talk of domestic abuse and a lot of self hatred, paranoia and general bad brain feelings. There's also a bit with...psychiatry talk?? Like a psychiatrist. Talking. If that's something that makes you uncomfortable, proceed with care!
> 
> Title from Some Kind of Disaster by All Time Low.

“Rita says we’re allowed to take anything we want from the minifridge. There’s enough fake money in the account for it.”

“How delightful.” Nureyev pulls out one of the tiny bottles of vodka with one long-nailed hand and studies it. “Though regardless I’ve figured out many work arounds to removing the contents without being charged during my past hotel stays…”

“Of course you have.”

Juno and Nureyev are spending the weekend together at what is apparently the second finest hotel and resort on Callisto- or rather, Jeremiah and Iris König are spending the weekend together there. They’re newlyweds on their honeymoon, a cover that Vespa was less than pleased with.

 _“Ransom,_ you’re the one who complained so much about having to act as Juno’s husband for the globe heist because it was ‘reusing an old cover’, but now you want to do it again?!”

“The Königs are nothing like the Dauphins, and besides, we’re planets away from Zolotovna,” Nureyev argued. “We won’t be recognized.”

“Oh, leave them be, Vespa,” Buddy had interjected after the debate had gone on for several minutes. “They might as well be married again, if they’re going to be doing the mission together. They’re rubbish at acting like they aren’t madly in love.”

Juno hadn’t known whether to be offended or touched by that observation, but at the very least it put an end to the arguing.

Now they’re here, with an entire day to get acquainted with the hotel layout and befriend the visiting diplomats before they make their move to steal said diplomats’ comms units in the morning. Neither of them are particularly very good at relaxing, but they’re determined to do their best today. The hotel may only be the second finest, but it _is_ fine, and it’s a relief to be out and about after so many days cooped up on the Carte Blanche.

The day passes uneventfully. Nureyev, with his decades of experience, is able to case the entire building within a couple of hours. Juno hangs out at the bar by the pool, making small talk and observing the diplomats’ every move.

Once night falls, he and Nureyev order room service and eat it together in their room while watching a stream Rita recommended. It’s nice to share a proper double bed instead of both having to squeeze into one of their singles like back on the ship. Even with an excess of space and blankets, Nureyev still somehow manages to steal all the covers.

Juno is a naturally light sleeper, and he drifts in and out of rest throughout the night. At one point he wakes up shivering, and blearily reaches out to adjust the air conditioner. They always seem to be set too high in hotels, he muses.

The one downside to the bed is that it means he and Nureyev are farther apart than usual, and the lack of body heat beside him contributes to the chill. He scoots over on the mattress until his chest is against Nureyev’s back and moves to put his arms around him, as gently as possible so as not to wake him.

As soon as he does, however, he realizes the man’s body isn’t relaxed the way it should be in sleep. He’s stiff, his shoulders tense and his usual soft snores replaced by mechanical breathing. He’s already awake.

“Nureyev…?” Juno nuzzles into the back of his neck. “You all right? Have a bad dream?”

“I’m fine,” Nureyev responds, his voice hoarse.

He doesn’t sound panicked or like he’s been crying, which is a relief, but he doesn’t sound great either. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Of course, love.”

Juno drifts back to sleep. Every time he wakes, even briefly, he hopes for Nureyev to have finally relaxed in his arms. He never does, however. From the moment they fell into bed together to the moment Juno wakes up to their alarm in the morning, Juno never sees Nureyev asleep once. He can only hope, when he gets up and pulls on his clothes for the day, that the two of them are just on opposing sleep schedules- that Nureyev did get some rest, if only in the periods that Juno was asleep.

He doubts this, though, especially when Nureyev looks so exhausted when he gets out of bed, drifting like a zombie to the bathroom to do his makeup.

Before they head downstairs to complete the heist, Juno stops him. “Are you up for this? Are you…feeling okay?”

“Just tired,” Nureyev says. “I…didn’t sleep well last night.”

“I noticed. Did you sleep at all?”

He looks sheepish. “I might have drifted off once or twice. I tried to, but…”

“If you’re sick, you can stay here. I’m pretty buddy-buddy with the marks after yesterday, to be honest. I think I could handle getting the comms on my own.”

“No, I’m not sick. Don’t worry. It wasn’t anything like that. Being here with you just…brought back memories, I suppose.”

Juno is confused for a moment, and then his eye widens and realization surges through him. They’re in a hotel. They slept together in a hotel bed, for the very first time since that night.

The association hadn’t even crossed his mind. To him, a resort on one of Jupiter’s moons and a hotel in Hyperion City couldn’t be more different, but to someone like Nureyev who’s been to a thousand hotels all over the galaxy in the past twenty years, they all must seem about the same by this point.

Nureyev sees his stricken expression and waves a hand. “It’s silly, I know. It’s not like I actually thought you’d walk out on me again or anything like that. My mind was just playing tricks on me.”

Juno touches his elbow lightly, his heart aching, and says, “I know we booked two nights here, but we don’t have to stay for the second one. We can just go back to the ship to sleep.”

Nureyev shakes his head. “I want to stay here. I don’t want my association with sleeping beside you in hotels to be…that. I want to replace that memory with a thousand better ones.”

Juno chokes back an apology, because Nureyev has long since insisted that he doesn’t need any more of those. Instead he says, “Yeah. Me too.”

They get the comms from the diplomats without issue, and when they lie down to sleep that night, Juno lets Nureyev hold him as close as he needs to reassure himself that Juno isn’t ever going to leave.

Juno is doing his best, but some weeks are worse than others.

Not long after the resort, he can feel himself sliding again. He couldn’t explain the feeling if he tried. There’s no single event that triggers it, rather a thousand small fears and guilts that build up over time before suddenly threatening to overwhelm him.

Rita’s been helping. As a space pirate he isn’t in a great position to go to a therapist right now, but she’s found a series of videos by a licensed psychiatrist who specializes in recovery from depression and abuse. Juno isn’t always up for watching them, but something about the psychiatrist’s voice is soothing to him. He can’t deny that they’ve made a lot of great points in their talks, too, and made him think about things he hadn’t considered before. In a way, it’s just reassuring to know that he isn’t the only one feeling what he’s feeling.

On his third bad day in a row, Rita and Nureyev set him up in his room with blankets and hot cocoa, and then leave him alone when he asks to be alone. Before she goes, however, Rita suggests he watch one of the videos.

He knows he needs to do something, so he chooses one at random, sinks back into his pillows, and lets it play.

This particular talk is about abusive romantic relationships. He feels a bit nervous, putting it on- it’s always a gamble whether the videos will help him learn or send him spiraling into flashbacks. He’s been feeling okay on this front lately, though. He remembers his exes less and less each day, and he no longer flinches when Nureyev makes quick movements around him. Nureyev isn’t going to hurt him. He knows that for sure now.

_“It’s important to remember that victims in abusive relationships are always that: victims. Sometimes their judgement is clouded by love or manipulation, making them choose to stay with someone who has hurt them deeply, but this doesn’t mean they aren’t in need of help.”_

Juno recalls all the times he’s forgiven partners who’ve cheated on him in the past and grimaces. He likes to think he isn’t that lady anymore, and that he knows what he’s worth now.

_“Victims may even chase after abusers who’ve left them, seeking whatever validation the relationship brought them in spite of the pain it also caused.”_

He’d need both hands to count the amount of times he did that when he was younger, too. Not anymore, though. He’s not going to do it anymore.

_“The toxic person in a relationship may not even be totally aware of the amount of hurt they’re causing, because their partner is quick to forgive and accept any apology in order to keep them around. It is important to stand up for yourself and set boundaries. If your partner isn’t willing to accept those boundaries, then you…”_

Juno wonders vaguely if someone could really be cruel to their partner without realizing it. Every time one of his partners was cruel to him, it felt wholly intentional. He isn’t sure if that makes him feel better or worse.

They must know, right? They ought to know that they’re hurting the person they claim to love.

Then, without warning, memories flood his mind.

 _Walking out of a hotel room. Thinking_ , _“He’ll be fine. He’ll be better off. In a week, he’ll have completely forgotten me and moved on.”_

_Nureyev insisting that he stop apologizing, saying, “All is forgiven, Juno.”_

_Nureyev’s body, tense in his arms, unable to sleep for the entirety of the night because the memory of Juno leaving hurts too much._

Juno’s blood runs cold.

The psychiatrist on the stream is still talking, but he can barely hear their words through the pounding in his ears. When he does come back to himself enough to make them out, they certainly don’t make him feel any better.

_“An abuser may try to use their own illnesses or trauma as an excuse for their actions or a way to gain sympathy and forgiveness, but know that those things do not give them a free pass to continue perpetuating the cycle of abuse-”_

Juno slams the off button on his comms and the stream evaporates. The silence might be even worse, however, leaving him alone with nothing to focus on but his own thoughts, which are currently swirling in some dark and nebulous place that he doesn’t know how to climb out of.

There’s a sharp rap on the door, and his heart nearly jumps out of his chest.

“Mistah Steel?”

He’s relieved that it’s Rita. He doesn’t think he could bear to look Nureyev in the face right now. “Come…come in.” He doesn’t really want to see her either- or anyone- but turning her away would only make her suspicious and more persistent about helping him.

He doesn’t want to be helped right now.

He doesn’t deserve to be.

She opens the door and slips inside, then closes it behind her. “How yah feeling, Boss?”

“I’m not your boss,” he mumbles, but only because he knows it’s what he’s supposed to say.

She frowns at the shadowy room, the light from the stream conspicuously absent. “Oh, no. Were the psychiatry videos too upsetting again? I _knew_ I should have sent you the download link for _Dolphin Robots 4: The Return of Dr. Fin_ , that one always makes me feel better when I’m-”

Juno cuts her off. “Not…upsetting. Just made me realize some stuff, is all.”

“Oh, well, that’s good,” Rita says, perking up. “Wanna watch _Dolphin Robots 4_ anyway? I brought popcorn!”

“…Okay.”

“Should I get Mistah Ransom, too?”

He hesitates, then shakes his head. Not only can he not bear to face Nureyev right now, he doesn’t want Nureyev to have to face him. Hasn’t he burdened the man enough without also subjecting him to every bad night or random spell of misery? “How about just you and me, for old time’s sake?”

He hates how happy Rita looks when he says that, and how she settles in beside him like he’s…good. Like he’s worthy of her love, or of anyone’s.

He tries to push the psychiatrist’s words out of his mind, but they keep weighing on him through the entire three hour stream and then again as he tries to fall asleep that night. They play over and over on a loop, taunting him.

Nureyev showed up at his door an hour before lights out, holding another mug of cocoa for him and looking hopeful. Juno let him in because they’ve spent most nights together recently and he couldn’t bear to turn him away, but he’s beginning to regret doing so.

Nureyev is beside him in the too-small bed now, curled up against his chest and sleeping peacefully. Usually his presence makes Juno feel better and distracts him from whatever’s going on in his head, but not tonight. Tonight it just makes him feel worse.

Nureyev is there, bare-faced and dressed down to only his briefs and a tank top, his hair- so perfectly coiffed in daytime- falling messily in front of his eyes. He’s left all his knives back in his own room, and his glasses aren’t even within arm’s reach. He’s so completely vulnerable right now, a vulnerability that Juno and Juno alone is privy to. It’s as if he believes nothing in the galaxy can hurt him so long as he’s in Juno’s arms.

Juno wants so badly for nothing and no one to ever hurt this man again.

He closes his eye and presses his lips lightly against the top of Nureyev’s head. He gets a soft, happy noise in response, and feels his heart ache.

How does Nureyev not realize that he _isn’t_ safe here?

How does he not realize that Juno is the very person he should be scared of?

Juno is going to put his glass from dinner back in the cupboard the next day when a tremor runs through his arm. It happens every now in then, a ghostly reminder of the wounds he’s taken to his shoulder. Usually it doesn’t cause much of a problem, but today it hits just hard enough and just unexpectedly enough that the glass slips out of his hand. He doesn’t make a sound as it shatters on the floor, but someone else does.

“Ah!”

He looks in the direction of the cry. Nureyev is sitting at the table and had been focused intently on his studies, but he now looks tense and wide-eyed. As soon as he catches Juno’s eye, he relaxes.

“You startled me, dear detective,” he says with a chuckle. “I must have been deep in thought.”

“Sorry about that. It was just a glass. Don’t worry, I can-”

But Nureyev is already on his feet, walking over to help pick up the broken pieces. “You must be more careful.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Nureyev.”

Nureyev lets out a soft gasp of pain. “Ah. Oops.”

Juno’s head jerks down and he sees blood dripping down the man’s long fingers, where the shattered glass has carved a small cut.

“Nureyev!” He crouches next to him, gingerly taking his hand. “Fuck, I…”

“It’s just a scratch, love. Could you get me a bandage?”

“O-of course.”

Juno hurries over to the cabinet where first aid supplies are kept, but his hand is shaking as he pulls it open, his head echoing with memories. How many times in his life has he been startled by a smashed glass or plate, thrown when his mother or partner was in a bad mood? How many times was he then left to pick up the pieces, his fingers marked with cuts and scars as a result?

He knows this is different. Of course it is. He didn’t break the glass on purpose, and Nureyev offered to pick it up. It wasn’t as though Juno made him do it.

As he wraps the bandage around Nureyev’s finger, it feels the same, though. “I’m sorry,” he says.

Nureyev chuckles. “It’s certainly not the worst injury I’ve ever sustained. It isn’t your fault, either, so an apology isn’t necessary.”

Juno wants to apologize, though. He wants to apologize over and over again. He wants to grab Nureyev by the shoulders and say, _I’m sorry I keep hurting you. I don’t know why I keep hurting you._

He wants to say, _I’m sorry that I’m the same as them._

He wants to say…

_We need to talk._

They’re the worst words that anyone can ever hear in a relationship, and Nureyev has just heard them from Juno’s mouth. _“We need to talk. Could you meet me in your room in fifteen minutes?”_

Nureyev is now sitting on his bed, his hands shaking slightly as he scratches nervously at his nail polish and tries not to panic. There are a million things this could be about. It doesn’t have to mean anything bad. It doesn’t have to mean that he’s found Nureyev’s burner comms, or that he…knows.

But it could.

Juno’s face is stony when he walks into the room, which only makes Nureyev’s heart race faster.

“Hey, Nureyev.”

“Hello, love,” Nureyev replies softly.

Juno sits down and takes his unbandaged hand, tracing it with his fingers as though trying to commit it to memory. Nureyev recalls the last time he was looked at like that, in a hotel room when Juno thought he was asleep, and feels something in his heart crack.

When Juno speaks again, he does so as if he’s trying to talk through a mouth full of cement. His face is ashen but carefully blank. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

Nureyev stares at him. “What…isn’t going to work?”

He knows the answer. He didn’t need to ask. He did anyway.

“This,” Juno says again. _“Us._ I…Nureyev, I love you, and you know I love you. That’s why I’m doing this. This isn’t good for you. It isn’t…healthy. You shouldn’t-”

“Juno, are you leaving me?”

Nureyev surprises himself with how calmly he manages to say it, despite the fact that his heart has just shattered into a thousand tiny, glittering pieces.

“I’m- I’m helping you. I’m saving you from me. I thought because I’ve been recovering I could be worthy of you now, but that doesn’t change what I did in that hotel. What I’ve done. I have to leave.”

All the shattered pieces of Nureyev’s heart sharpen themselves into knives, and when he speaks his voice is laced with rage. “Do not do this to me again, Juno Steel. Don’t you dare.”

“That’s what I mean, though! _Again!”_ Juno says. “I already hurt you once. Really, really badly. I had no idea how much until recently. How can you forgive me for that?! How can you know I won’t hurt you again?”

“How can you know _I_ won’t hurt you?” Nureyev spits. “How can you know _I_ won’t leave you?!”

“I- I can’t,” Juno says, startled.

“So why do you stay with me?”

“Because…I trust you. I love you.”

Nureyev intends his next words to be biting, but instead they come out choked. “If you love me, why do you want to be rid of me so badly?!”

An agonized expression crosses Juno’s face, but then he says, “I don’t! You do, you just don’t realize it yet. You don’t realize that you’d be better off without me.”

“Oh, yes. Go ahead, Juno, explain _my_ feelings to me.”

“I know you think you love me, but-”

 _“Think_ I love you?” Nureyev repeats. _“Think?_ Juno, I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried, and believe me, I tried for _months.”_

“You love me, then! And I love you! That doesn’t mean I’m good for you. It doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you!”

“It certainly doesn’t. After all, you’re hurting me right now,” Nureyev says venomously, then stops and takes a deep breath. He tries to think through the sirens blaring in his mind, all the voices screaming _Of course he’s leaving you, you knew this would happen, you weren’t enough to make him stay then and you still aren’t now_ -

“I can’t pretend I’m not…angry, or upset,” he continues, forcing his voice to stay level. “I am. But I also know you don’t mean any of this. You’re just saying it because you’ve been…in a bad way lately.”

“Seems like I’m always in a fucking bad way. You’re always taking care of me. What do I do for you, Nureyev? What do I do in this relationship, other than hurt you and be a burden on you?”

“Juno…”

Nureyev thought they were past this. He thought they were done with whatever guilt and self-loathing had driven Juno to leave him that night. He ought to have known that things were never that simple, though.

His mistake, back then, had been not realizing just how deep the dark feelings that had trapped Juno behind that door ran. He’d made the same mistake today, in assuming Juno had made a miraculous recovery and would never feel that way again.

“You do so much for me, just by being here,” Nureyev says softly. “Not just that, though. You’ve been kind to me, supported me…I love being with you. I love you, Juno.”

He hates how desperate the words sound as they fall from his mouth, and he hates the hot tears that accompany them. He tries to wipe them away surreptitiously before Juno sees them, but he doesn’t manage to. The look of shame and resignation that crosses Juno’s face at the sight of them, as though he’s just been proven right, is like a punch to the gut.

“God fucking dammit.” Juno’s hands make trembling fists in the sheets. “How did I not realize it sooner? How did I not realize I’m just like them?”

“Like…who?”

“I…I can’t even remember the amount of times they made me cry, only for me to keep crawling back, insisting I loved them. They kept hurting me, but it was like I couldn’t see it.”

Nureyev’s face crumples with sympathy. He’s only heard bits and pieces about Juno’s past relationships, but they were never good. “I’m so sorry, Juno.”

“No! No, shut up, stop apologizing. Don’t you get it? This is the same. You’re doing the exact same thing I did, back then. I’m hurting you like they hurt me.”

“No, you’re not, I-”

Juno laughs mirthlessly. “I thought you were smarter than this. Smarter than me. Shouldn’t you know better than to stay?”

Nureyev feels anger and hurt flood through him, but he swallows them down. He knows what this is. Juno is being cruel on purpose to push him away, to prove himself right. Nureyev isn’t going to let him do it.

“Juno, stop it. You’re not like them. You have hurt me, certainly. But I’ve hurt you too.” He reaches out and gingerly runs a finger across Juno’s eyepatch. “You’ve forgiven me for that, so why am I not allowed to forgive you?” He draws a shaky breath. “You don’t get to decide my feelings for me. You shouldn’t have back in that hotel room, and you can’t now.”

“But…I…” All the aggression has drained out of Juno, and he just looks scared and sad. “I wasn’t able to trust my own feelings back when I was in those relationships. I thought I wanted to stay when I shouldn’t have. I thought people deserved forgiveness when they didn’t. How can you know that I, that I haven’t…”

Nureyev raises an eyebrow. “That you haven’t what? _Manipulated_ me into thinking I love you when I don’t actually?”

Juno’s silence gives him all the answer he needs. He sighs. “What you’re forgetting, my dear Juno, is that I am not you. I feel beholden to no one and nothing. I take what I want, and leave what I don’t. I’m with you because I want to be with you, and no other reason. I don’t feel obligated. I don’t feel manipulated. I love you because you’re a good person and I enjoy your company, not because of…Stockholm syndrome, or anything like that.”

“But…why?” Juno says weakly. “How could you love me just for who I am, despite everything I’ve put you through?”

Nureyev shrugs. “Because you’re clever, and funny, and kind, and you’re…the most beautiful lady I’ve ever had the extreme fortune of meeting. A better question is how could I _not_ love you?” He looks down at his fingernails, their once perfect polish now ruined by his nervous picking. “I do understand how you feel, though. I’ve wondered it sometimes myself. You were hurt so badly because of me. You…you watched the worst thing I’ve ever done. How could you possibly love me?”

“Of course I-”

“Hush. It’s a thought that passes quickly, don’t worry. In the end, I always find myself thinking…there’s no point trying to ascribe a reason for someone else’s love. If they love you, they love you. There’s nothing you can do about it, so the best you can do for them is just to try to be worthy of that love.”

Juno’s shoulders sag. “I haven’t been doing a very good job of that. God, fuck, I’m so sorry, Nureyev.”

“And you should be,” Nureyev says simply. “You were wrong to assume my feelings, and you were wrong to tell me I should leave you. Hearing that was…incredibly painful. But we’re all wrong and we all hurt each other, on occasion. That doesn’t mean you’re the same as the people who abused you. It just means you’re human.”

Juno takes a deep breath and says, “How can I make this up to you?”

“Juno-”

“I- I know what you’ve said, and what that psychiatrist said, how…relationships aren’t transactional, or whatever. I know that now. But I still hurt you, and I want to do something about that. Please. It would make me feel better if you told me how I could make it up to you.”

Nureyev is quiet for a moment, thinking. “Well, the next time you feel like you don’t deserve me or what have you, could you please…talk to me about it before just leaving, or suggesting we break things off?” An involuntary tremor runs through him. “It…scares me more than you know. Logically I know that it isn’t about me, that it’s about what you’re going through, but in the moment…it feels like it’s me. It feels like I’m not enough for you.”

“Nureyev, I’m so sorry, I-”

“I don’t need you to say sorry. I need you to not do it again.”

Juno nods slowly. “Right. Yes. Okay. I’ll talk to you.”

“And you’ll ask me about my feelings instead of assuming them?”

“I will. I promise.”

“Thank you.”

Juno looks at him expectantly for a long moment before finally saying, “…Is that it?”

“What do you want me to say? Juno, I’m exhausted. My poor heart’s been rather put through the ringer tonight. If you really want to do something else for me, you could let me lie in your arms until I fall asleep and don’t have to think anymore.”

Juno laughs thickly. “I’m pretty sure I can handle that much.”

“Thank you, love.”

Nureyev buries his face in Juno’s chest and closes his eyes, letting out a long-held breath. If he holds Juno a little too tightly, the lady doesn’t comment.

Nothing comes easy in life, Juno has learned, and recovery certainly does not. There are still days where the only words he knows how to say are _‘I’m sorry’_ , days when he doesn’t comprehend how Nureyev could possibly love him or forgive him- and days where allowing himself to feel worthy of that love might as well be a Herculean task.

He’s not going to let himself ruin this, though. He spent too long looking in the mirror and seeing his mother reflected back at him before he realized that they weren’t the same, and that he could choose to not be like her. If that’s true, then he can choose to not be the same as his past romantic partners, either.

Nureyev loves him.

Maybe he shouldn’t, and maybe Juno doesn’t deserve it or understand why, but he loves him nonetheless. Juno can’t stop him from loving him. He doesn’t actually want to, either. Not really. Even in his darkest moments, he’s so grateful to be loved by Peter Nureyev.

He’s going to accept that love. He’s going to give it back. He’s not like the people who hurt him, and he never will be.

So he takes every word he wanted to hear from them from didn’t, every soft touch and communication of boundaries and reassuring look he’d craved and never received, and he gives them to Nureyev.

Because the psychiatrist was right, he realizes: having experienced abuse isn’t an excuse for being abusive, and it _hasn’t_ made him abusive. His past doesn’t have to make him cruel.

It can also teach him how to be kind.

**Author's Note:**

> Can I write a fic without somehow referencing Juno having been in past abusive relationships or Nureyev being deeply messed up about being left in the hotel room??? Apparently not. I'm sorry.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated so so much. And you can follow me on tumblr @prydon or twitter @prydonn!


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